


Day 8: Spreading

by whatsanapocalae



Series: Inktober 2018 [5]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Inktober, Needles, you can leave your friends behind, you can ship if you want to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 13:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Some random scene in which Joseph is Haunted from his point of view. Not first person perspective though.Whenever I skip a day in Inktober, it's just that I wrote an original piece that day instead of fic. You can read the original ones on whatsanwritepocalae.tumblr.com





	Day 8: Spreading

It wasn’t an explosive pain that overwhelmed him, made him stumble, like a firecracker in his veins. It wasn’t like spiderwebs being stitched through his muscles, holding him together with tension in his left temple. It wasn’t frost, biting in and leaving damage in its wake, holding him down and freezing him from the inside. No. This pain was like margarine. It was like a half melted stick of butter. It was like frosting that had been in the fridge a little bit too long. It was a thick and goopy thing, being placed on the heat of his brain and then smeared with a rusted old knife, the kind that everyone’s grandparent had back when it was clean and in good shape. It was familiar and wrong and distorted and it spread the pain so that it seeped into all of the grooves of his mind. 

His hands were on his skin, tearing, ripping, his leather gloves saving his skin from his fingernails, but that didn’t matter. His skin was ruined anyway. As that knife grew dry it left his mind to go down his cheeks, his forehead, his throat, inside and out, making it red, opening it for puss and blood and angry red veins to become visible. As that knife traveled down him, under his dress shirt, under his slacks, down his legs, down his arms, pustules and blisters sprang up in its stead, trying to heal the wounds, a grotesque display that something was wrong. 

The pain didn’t just leave his outside ugly and marred, with agony in every touch, heat left behind in every step. It was on the inside of him as well. It made his throat raw and his voice deep, manic. It made his eyes red and hot and his vision turned red. It was in his blood, driving him further, driving him forward, making his muscles strong and violent. 

His mind wasn’t even his own. It wanted to rip and tear. It wanted to cool itself from the heat of pain with the soothing flood of blood. It wanted to fill him with the pain of others, as if that would cure him of the pain inside of himself. 

It filled him with glee and malice and an impossible energy. His laugh didn’t come out as a cackle so much as it came out as a series of gurgling groans. It was a sound that drew Sebastian’s attention towards him and the fear, the absolute terror in his eyes, stirred the evil within him. He rushed Sebastian, ignoring the words that stumbled from the man’s mouth, his own movements odd, sharp and angular, making him miss Sebastian entirely. That was fine, Sebastian wasn’t his target yet. 

“And why would I want to stop?” his voice didn’t sound like his when he replied, grabbing an ax out of one of the monsters that they had down together. He stomped the creatures head in as he yanked upward, covering himself in more fluid, blood and brains and who knew what else. It felt like showering in the rain on a sunny day. “You want me to stop. You want all the glory for yourself.”

Sebastian was saying something, his hands raised, defensive. That wasn’t right. Sebastian needed a gun in his hand. That was how he dealt with situations, shooting first. It didn’t matter how many times he got in trouble for it. Sebastian didn’t care if he got I trouble for anything. Except for when he did and then he’d been alone, shoved out of Sebastian’s life, all for trying to save him. 

He rushed him then and this time he let his awkward momentum push him, correcting with the ax, turning on his heel as Sebastian tried to dodge him. Sebastian shouldn’t have tried. He shouldn’t have tried at work. He shouldn’t have tried to fight him at every step of their partnership. He should have just given in. 

He’d given in and now he was able to enjoy it. 

“Come on now!” he spat, slicing through the air as Sebastian dodged him. He was fast but not as fast as Sebastian’s eyes. “Don’t be like that!” He swung again, closer, cutting through Sebastian’s sleeve and just a little bit of skin. “You don’t want me to kill you, do you?” He brought the ax down and Sebastian shoved an arm up, blocking the handle before the blade could carve into his skull. 

Whatever he was saying, it sounded a lot like begging. 

“Sebastian,” he tutted, only now seeing his partner reach for his gun, “this place is going to kill you if you don’t stop cowering. It’s feeding on you! He’s feeding on you. If you don’t do something right now, I’m going to feed on you!” to make his point even more apparent, he licked his lips, tasting his own blood on them. 

The item in Sebastian’s hand, it wasn’t a gun. It was far more pathetic. 

“That’s not going to cut it, Seb!” he cackled, feeling the blood mist out of his mouth. 

He had both hands on the ax now and he lowered his shoulders, acting like he was going to tackle. Sebastian was ready for a shoulder to his gut, not for him to switch tactics last minute as sweep the ax low. He embedded the ax into Sebastian’s leg, reveling in his scream, as that object was jammed into his own leg. He had to work at getting the ax out, Sebastian just had to shove down the plunger. 

The pain didn’t fade, it didn’t vanish, it was pushed back as the medicine spread through his veins, cleaning him out as it moved, curing him of this evil inside of him. Within seconds he was on the ground, panting, toxin filled blood pouring from his nose. 

“Shit,” Joseph gasped, reaching out, trying to help, finding Sebastian’s hands taking his, holding them tightly. “Again?”


End file.
